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The sun is high, her head is spinning, and Whitney is stealing her food. The last one might be contributing to the one before. Jasmine's not quite sure.

Whitney swallows. "Wow, they really give you good helpings here!" She tilts her head towards Jasmine and leans on the counter, the leisurely movement doing nothing to counteract her usual sense of hyperactivity. "I bet you come here a lot, right?"

Jasmine blinks, tensing up. "Oh, well, I..." It was an accident in the first place to let Whitney know this was her favorite place; Jasmine doesn't want to seem like a big eater. Is it rude to answer 'no'? "Sometimes, I mean..."

Whitney nods enthusiastically, mouth somehow full again already, and takes a moment to finish chewing. "I know I would if I lived here. It's not that far, but... Well, it's so easy to find a place in the city, you know? Plus I've got the gym to take care of... Oh!"

Jasmine starts at the sudden exclamation; it takes her a moment to ease herself back into a more relaxed position, and by then Whitney has continued. "How has your training been going? I heard about what happened with Amphy."

Jasmine nods, feeling out of danger. "Amphy's doing fine now; a trainer brought me the medicine." She fiddles with her fork before she remembers to look Whitney in the eye. "It's been slow getting back into training, but... I have everyone at the gym to support me, so that's all right."

Whitney nods more slowly, putting her silverware down. Jasmine glances at her own, barely-touched by her food. Usually she eats so much more than this, and she's a little hungry, but she can't feel comfortable eating like that in front of other people. "Yeah, I don't know what we'd do without them." Whitney bites her lip. "They're always standing up for me when I lose... not that that happens a lot, or anything!"

Jasmine smiles slightly, automatically, and Whitney beams. "There you go! You should do that more often, you know." She sighs as Jasmine shrinks back at the attention. "Whoops. Well, it's a start, right?"

Jasmine nods, even if she's not exactly sure what she's agreeing to. Even if she's not smiling, she's happy to be with Whitney.

The other girl frowns, glancing at Jasmine's plate as she moves her fork to it. "Aah! I didn't mean to... Here!" She switches their plates quickly, giving the Olivine Leader her own partially full dish. "You need to eat something. You're going to waste away otherwise!"

Jasmine blinks and glances at the plate in front of her. Suddenly, eating doesn't seem so awkward.

Jessie yelped and thrust her finger to her lips after stabbing it with the needle for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. Unfortunately, she lamented, hot air balloons are not shock-proof, and after yet another blast from Pikachu’s infamous Thundershock, their Meowth balloon was in disrepair once more. Meowth had gone to speak with their supplier about ordering more Cream #ede6b9 nylon to patch the hole. For goodness’ sake, they should probably just order that stuff in bulk what with the way things are going.

That left her and James to sew up some of the smaller holes. It was delicate work; and Jessie wasn’t exactly the delicate type.

She threw down the needle. “I’m sick of this!” she declared.

“I know patchwork production is no fun,” James said comfortingly, “but what else can we do? We need a cut-rate way to climb the clouds and this is it.” He looked down at his own sewing. “Recurrent repairs are just part of the package.”

Jessie pouted. She knew he was right, but still… “Well, why does it have to look like Meowth? That’s all I want to know,” she said, crossing our arms. “If we’re going to put so much work into then it ought to have a more dashing design.”

“Such as?” James asked.

Jessie turned and gave him a pose. “How about this pretty face?”

James gave her a look. “I’m not… sure that would work.”

“What do you mean it won’t work?!” Jessie yelled, turning on him angrily.

James put up his hands in a placatory gesture. “Only that your hairstyle might—” he began tremulously.

“What’s wrong with my hair?!” You could see the fire erupting in Jessie’s eyes at this point.

“Nothing, nothing!” James said quickly, cowering slightly. “It just might cause drag in a hot air balloon design,” he said, “what with it being so elongated and elegant,” he threw in as a last ditch attempt to save himself.

Jessie’s rage cooled. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she said simply.

James mentally let out a sigh of relief. Logic had worked; there was a first time for everything.

Jessie sat down and had a rare moment of self-consciousness. “But… there’s nothing wrong with my hairstyle in general, right?” she asked. “It’s just not right for a hot air balloon. You like it, right?”

James opened his mouth. This might be the only chance he’d have to bring up the issue that bangs were in this season and widow’s peaks had been out for… Oh, the last two hundred years or so. But he caught her eye and…

“Oh, of course,” he said definitively. “There’s nothing more fabulous than a swoosh of magenta.”

Jessie seemed empowered by this. “And it’s distinctive, right?”

“Absolutely,” James said, and this time he didn’t even have to exaggerate.

“Alright then!” Jessie said, sounding satisfied as she got up. She looked around on the ground for her dropped needle. “Let’s get back to this!”

“Oh, it’s just got to be around here somewhere,” Mira said miserably, looking around the forest landscape.

Mira was into asymmetrical hairstyles and all, but a looped ponytail on one side and loose hair on the other side was kind of ridiculous. If she didn’t find her barrette then…

Well, then she’d have to buy another one. But she’d saved up her allowance to buy those barrettes and she liked them! Sure it wasn’t the end of the world, but she was cursing herself for losing it nonetheless.

“Abrrra,” Abra croaked, pointing to an orb of yellow.

“My barrette!” Mira said excitedly, but her joy turned to despair as she got closer. “Oh no! It’s sinking!” she cried out.

Sure enough, the barrette which had seemed to be resting on solid ground before was rapidly sinking into the dry, fine sand it was sitting in.

“Abra!” Abra cried, making a leap toward the sinking hair accessory.

“No, Abra!” Mira shouted, jumping after it and holding it back from the quicksand.

They watched as the barrette descended into the sand without even making a sound.

“Ab-abra?” Abra asked, turning to Mira.

“Come on, Abra,” Mira said. “It’s dangerous on quicksand. And you know you’re worth more to me than some silly barrette.”

Title: Amaryllis
Author: alyssonrose
Fandom: Pokemon
Pairing: N/Makomo, WorldSoWrongShipping
Rating: G
Note: Taken from my FanFiction account, brought to Serebii for your reading pleasure. Also, this were written before N's backstory and characterization was revealed, thus, I deem it AU.

Spoiler:- Amaryllis:

The day began as usual; Makomo woke up, flailing like a headless Torchic, clutching at the air and falling off her bed. She groaned, as she looked for her ringing alarm clock, the stupid contraption caused her unpleasant fall, and when her fingers wrapped themselves around the stupid object, Makomo threw it across the room.

Satisfied, she got ready for the day and brushed her black hair. Her violet eyes sparkled under her glasses, but the rest of her body looked like crap. She wasn't going to have a fantastic day today. Makomo gave the reflection in the mirror a scowl and a sigh. After judging the damage done by the metal alarm clock of doom, Makomo sprinted out the door.

The long-haired woman ran through the streets of Sanyou City, all while balancing folders, binders, and a messenger bag filled to the brim with research on her newest project: dream smoke. She was overworked, but fine with the responsibility her mentor, Professor Araragi bestowed upon her.

And then the expected unexpected occurred: she crashed. Papers flew in the air, and her bag's contents were littered on the floor. The woman muttered incoherent curse words under her breath, all while scrambling to pick up the fallen objects. She heard the rustling of papers from behind her, and immediately turned around to see a familiar face.

"N."

The green-haired, pony-tailed teen merely smirked, as his gray eyes flickered with amusement.

"Makomo."

The assistant resisted the urge to wipe that smirk off the younger teen's face; with a sledgehammer.

But sadly, it seemed that hitting teenagers that were three years younger than you didn't look good on letters that went home.

The glasses-wearing young adult simply clenched her teeth and picked up her belongings. N had managed to pick up a book, chosen at random, and began reading the title aloud:

"'Dreams and Pokémon: The Science', my, my. What is this, Makomo?" N purred as Makomo let out a sigh, composed of pure irritation. She snatched the book away and turned on her heel.

"Something far too great for you to comprehend. Have a good day." The black-haired scientist fled the scene, her long hair being tossed around and around by the Sanyou City breeze, a miraculous sign from above.

Makomo needed those little miracles, especially with her scary-as-hell boss, Professor Araragi, a pleasant woman with a very short temper.

Which was going to be tested if she didn't hurry up and get to the lab before the clock struck twelve; Sanyou City was a long way off from Araragi's lab, and thanks to N's delay-Makomo narrowed her eyes as she dodged a golf cart that had come out of nowhere- she would be apprehended.

"Curse that green-haired teen." Makomo muttered as she disappeared into the morning crowd.

As Makomo dissolved into the sea of faces, N chuckled at the older teen's behavior. Finally, when his laughter subdued, the green-haired, cap-wearing male ran off to the nearest flower shop with a bloom in mind: amaryllis.

Because even the haughty deserved a gift every now and then.

Amazing signature by Skiyomi~ <3 Alyss - Noun; A ChessShipper, a DualRivalShipper, and a LostRoyalShipper.
Alexandrianshipping is her favorite pairing in the world, besides Twinleafshipping.
Her most popular story is Alexandria, and she loves the story very much~~You just lost the Game. ;D

You're a willow, blowing in the cold wind let into our apartment window because you insisted on leaving the window open last night.

It smells like snow, you said.

Confession: I only agreed because I wanted to take you to bed. Appeasement might have been a poor strategy for Chamberlain, but you're a wholly different breed of evil than what he was dealing with.

I'm wondering, Hika-chan, if I untangle myself from our sheets and pull you into my arms, will you notice? If I press my lips against your skin, will it still taste of champagne? If I murmur into your navel all of the things I've said countless times before, will it still make you blush?

You look up from the television, a smirk dancing on your face. "It's unusually hot today, according to the brains behind the Weather Channel."

"It's snowing."

You shrug and climb back into bed. "Don't let facts get in the way of a good story," you whisper, dead-pan, as I kiss your neck. "Shigeru, I'm too hungover."

"I was just conducting a study."

You quirk an eyebrow. "Of what my jugular tastes like?"

"Sort of."

Leaning back into me, you smile and shut your eyes. "Just don't break the skin."

“You can’t do this!” Mira called out, as she and her Abra were unceremoniously shoved into the dank, dirty cell. The barred door clanked shut and a key turned in the lock. Mira held her face up to the opening between the bars. “There must be some misunderstanding! Why would anyone throw an eight year old in jail?”

“Ha!” Officer Jenny said, looking none too moved by Mira’s pleading. “You can’t fool me Edna Crampwell! That putting up your hair in barrettes and acting cutesy might work on your marks, but I know for a fact that you’re really forty-five and unnaturally short!”

“What?” Mira said, completely gobsmacked by this.

“Abra!” Abra exclaimed, unable to believe these assertions.

“There must be some mistake!” Mira cried. “My name is Mira, not Edna Crampwell or whatever!”

“Forget the lies! I know who you really are!” Officer Jenny said, holding up a wanted poster for Mira’s inspection.

The wanted poster was indeed for an Edna Crampwell. The crime appeared to be fraud, fraud, and extra fraud. And the picture… well, it was someone about the size of an eight year old, with a thin frame, a white puffy shirt with a bow on it, and pink shorts. It was the exact same outfit that Mira was wearing… in fact, the only difference between them was that while Mira considered her expression to be fairly pleasant, Edna Crampwell had dark, evil shadows under her eyes and a wicked grin. Even the hair was…

“This can’t be!” Mira exclaimed, grabbing at the wanted poster through the bars of her cell. “I had that hairstyle trademarked!”

“So you can just stay in there all night,” Jenny said forcefully.

Mira knew there was no getting Officer Jenny to see reason. Somewhere out there was a doppelganger of hers causing misery… “Don’t I at least get a phone call?” Mira asked weakly.

“A phone call?!” Jenny snapped. “That’s more than the poor old men and women you conned out of their life savings got! Forget it!” She stormed out of the room, arms pumping furiously.

Abra made a mournful croaking noise. Mira took a knee next to it and patted it on its head.

“Don’t worry, Abra,” Mira said soothingly. “Mom and Dad’ll find out what happened and bail us out tomorrow. We just gotta wait out the night. Let’s get some sleep.”

She looked up at the bed… and at whatever was growing on the bed.

“On second thought,” she said, “let’s just curl up together in the corner and nap there.”

A loud cheer erupted from the attendees, the sound of cameras snapping suddenly coming from all directions. Her cheeks rosy, Dawn beamed towards her friends and family, her hands locked behind her husband's neck. Her eyes showed amusement as she watched many young maidens scramble and fight for the fallen bouquet in hopes of sometime getting married themselves. A pair of lips found their way to her right cheek, and she turned to the man she loved and vowed to spend her life with.

"Let's go to the limo; our honeymoon can't wait," he whispered, his eyes locked onto hers. His grip on her waist tightened, and he pressed his lips sweetly and tenderly against hers.

“You will sleep with the person you are sitting with,” the blue-haired commander read.

“That’s not what it says,” Jupiter scowled, reaching to take the tiny slip of paper from him. Saturn pulled away, dangling the fortune beyond her grasp. Her hand fell when she realized she couldn’t steal it from him and slammed the fortune cookie itself, shattering it.

“Now what did you do that for? The cookie’s not as good in tiny pieces. Come on, Jupiter, don’t take your anger out on the cookie,” he whined, dropping his head to look eye-level at the fragmented cookie.

“The cookie that had a fortune about sleeping with me?” she rolled her eyes, grabbing the other fortune cookie and snapping it in half while Saturn nodded his head, vehemently insisting his fortune was exactly that.

She slowly read the slip before raising her eyes to glare at him. He stared back, unblinking, waiting for her to read it. Instead, she simply stood up and told him they were leaving.

“Aw come on, you thought it was funny,” Saturn protested once they were outside the restaurant, attempting to catch up to her long stride. Jupiter slowed and turned to face him, trying to hold an upset scowl but eventually succumbing to giggles.

“How did you get them to do that?” she asked, not understanding the ease at which fortunes can be inserted into fortune cookies for a slight fee.

“You know, just give them the paper and tell them to keep the cookies together and reserved for me. You know you liked it,” he smirked playfully, attempting to coax the high-strung commander into admitting she found his little prank funny.

“I know,” Dawn said. “It’s lucky we have your Kadabra to use Flash. If there’s one thing worse than wandering around a cave with no idea where you’re going, it’s wandering around a cave with no idea where you’re going in complete darkness.”

Dawn looked around, and saw a large pile of rocks in front of them. She froze. “Mira?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes?”

“We’ve been here before, right?”

Mira looked around. “It does look familiar,” she admitted.

“Yeah! We were here just about a half an hour ago,” Dawn said emphatically. “I remember that rock formation over there!”

“Well, we’ve been wandering around in circles for awhile,” Mira pointed out.

“Yeah, but Bibarel smashed those rocks before! I know it did!” Dawn exclaimed, starting to sound hysterical. “How can they be there now?!”

Mira looked beyond Dawn to the rocks that… had indeed been smashed before.

“They… grew back?” she tried.

Dawn clawed at her hair in a tizzy, then recovered with a fist pump. “Who cares what happened!” she said. “Let’s just get out of this creepy cave as quick as we can. Bibarel, Rock smash!”

With a flick of Bibarel’s tail, the rocks crumbled into bits.

“Let’s get going then!” Dawn said, her cheerfulness renewed as she rushed forward.

“Uh… you might want to be careful—” Mira began, but it was too late. Dawn had tripped on a pebble and went tumbling onto her back. “Dawn! Are you okay?”

“…Mira…” Dawn began in a broken voice.

“Yes?” Mira asked, leaning worriedly over Dawn.

“Could you… help me up? …And maybe help me pick the bits of gravel out of my hair?”

“OUT, OUT! GET OUT, NOW!” Jessie’s shrill screech echoed in the stainless steel hallway, as the blue-haired, red faced male stepped away slowly, his lips twisted into a grimace, his eyes darting everywhere but the woman in front of him. He attempted a backwards crawl, but couldn’t get out of the door’s way fast enough and was promptly kicked out by the furious red-head.

What had happened, was a mystery. Meowth strolled in lazily, and poked James’s shoulder with interesting.

“So, what happened, mm?” The feline Pokemon simply grinned as James attempted to regain his coherency. The male let out a sigh, and ran a hand through his messy locks.

“...don’t ask.” He managed a weak chuckle, as the chain of events replayed themselves in his head. It was an accident, he swore, but to Jessie, it seemed like a perfectly planned coincidence.

After all, James had suddenly wanted to test out his new lock-picking skills on Jessie’s bathroom door.

Amazing signature by Skiyomi~ <3 Alyss - Noun; A ChessShipper, a DualRivalShipper, and a LostRoyalShipper.
Alexandrianshipping is her favorite pairing in the world, besides Twinleafshipping.
Her most popular story is Alexandria, and she loves the story very much~~You just lost the Game. ;D

The air was tense within the battle subway. No one dared make a sound, some barely breathing.
Touya stood with his back to the wall. He was pressed flat against it, trying to get as far away as possible from the deadly blade of the Hahakomori in front of him.
"T-Touko! I'm telling you the truth! You're my only love!"
"Lies!" Touko took a step forward. "I saw you with Bel!"
Touya didn't know what to say. It was true, he had been with Bel, but not in the way Touko thought.
"I. saw. you. kiss. her," Touko hissed. Hahakomori's blade was at Touya's throat now, far too close for comfort.
"It was a kiss between freinds! Nothing romantic! Nothing more!" Touya was practically pleading.
Touko snorted. " You think I'm foolish enough to fall for that?" Touko snapped her fingers. Hahakomori steadied its blade.
"Touko!"
"If I can't have you... I guess I'll just have to obliviate you so no one else can..."

Mira was sitting down on the sofa about to watch some TV. She took a deep yawn as she laid back. She had finally gotten the two small children she was babysitting to sleep, but she still had another three hours left of watching them.

She flipped though the channels mindlessly, not really in the mood to watch anything, but needing something to pass the time. She stopped for a few minutes to watch the end of one of her favorite shows, but got mad when they interrupted her favorite part with what would be on the news.

She turned her head as the door bell rang and wondered if she should answer it or not. It wasn't her house, but it might be something important. She deiced that she'd answer it and got up and walked towards the door. She opened it up to find Max the son of the local GYM leader standing there.

"Hello there Max"

Mira said with a slight smile

"What are you doing here"

She asked looking at him.

"I told Mr. Glonck I'd come by to fix his computer for him tomorrow, but I've busy so I stopped by tonight instead.

Max replied pushing his glasses into place.

"Well he isn't here right now, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I let you into work on it"

Mira said opening the door more for him to walk in.

"Thanks"

Max said as he walked in and started heading towards Mr. Glonck's office.

"Mind if I watch. The kid's are asleep and I'm bored out of my mind. I might as well try and learn something."

Mira said with a look of hope on her face.

"Sure why not max said with a sight nervous tone in his.

Max started up the computer and sat down as it booted up.

"So what's wrong with it"

Mira asked looking at Max.

"Just a few computer viruses along with a few programs he'd like me to update."

Max said turning to the computer as it started up.

They sat there for the next hour talking as Max explained stuff to her as Mira asked questions on subjects.

As Max finished up and was getting ready to go Mira tried to think of a reason for him to stay.

"You know me and the kid's made some cupcakes. Why don't you join me in the kitchen and eat some over a glass of milk."

Mira said with hope in her voice.

"That sounds nice"

Max said with with hope and nervous in his voice.

They spent the next hour and a half in the kitchen eating and talking away both having a great time. Max deiced to stay a bit longer and help her clean up. And as they sat there washing dishes together they looked into each other's eyes and shared a slight kiss. As Mr. Glonck and Mrs. Glonck smiled from the other room

Kaedemirumo put the finishing touches on her sketch. She looked over it, wiping the graphite off her hands. Yes… that would do it.

She wasn’t surprised when Skiyomi dared her to draw a doodle of Xellos/Filia. After all, they were the Slayers-obsessed mod’s favorite couple as she so often felt the need to remind people. Kaedemirumo hoped Skiyomi would be happy with the result.

She passed the paper across the table to Skiyomi, careful not to smudge it as she did so. Skiyomi picked it up, holding the edges carefully, and looked down at it through her black framed glasses.

There was a high-pitched squealing noise and then the sound of something hitting the floor.

Kaedemirumo looked around the table to the floor where the recumbent Skiyomi was still clasping the picture close to her.

May was walking down the forest path on a nice warm sunny day. She felt a little tired since her and Blaziken had just gotten some contest training done. She kept telling herself to just make it a little more down the road till she got to the river bank and she'd take a rest there before finishing on her way home. She had finally made it there and sat down for a nice rest. She sat back against a log and closed her eyes when she heard someone coming up behind her.

"Hey May long time no see"

Said the person standing behind May. May turned around to see who the voice was coming from and felt her stomach leap as she looked up at Gary Oak.

"Gary"

May said jumping up at once.

"It's been a while since we last met. How have you been?"

May said looking at Gary.

"I've been alright, just been keeping up with becoming a researcher. How about you?"

Gay asked looking back at her.

"I've been good. Just resting here a bit on my way home"

Replied May.

"That's good. Mind if I rest here a bit with you"

Gary asked.

"Not at all"

May said with a smile.

They both sat there backs against the log in awkward silence for a while. They'd both take turns looking over at the other for a few seconds before moving looking away as not to make the other one notice. This went well till they both deiced to look over at the other at the same time and ended up staring into each other's eyes. They sat there for what felt like forever staring into each other's eyes, before May deiced to break the silence.

"So what's on your mind"

May said with a slight tone of embarrassment.

"Just... nothing really. You?"

Gary said looking down at the ground.

"I'm.... nothing"

May said back.

"You know what this is a bit silly"

Gary said looking up at May.

"We were doing just fine when I first walked up now were both sitting her to embarrassed to even talk to each other. I know that I'm finding it hard to talk since I have feelings towards you and just sitting down next to you made things a bit hard to do, but at the same time it's great. I don't know why you are finding it hard to talk, but I'm hoping it is for the same reason I am."

May sat there just looking at Gary with tears slowly filling her eyes. She couldn't believe what he had just said. It was as if he was reading her mind and saying everything she was thinking and it was a truly happy felling for her.

"I do. I do feel the same way Gary, and I'm happy that you were able to say something because I don't think I'd have been able to myself."

May said with more tears filling her eyes.

Gary slowly moved closer and wiped her tears away before moving his hand down to hold hers. She ooked up at him and gripped his hand a bit tighter feeling joy gonig though her body as they say there holding hands just staring at each other.

“You know any constellations, Cheren?” The green-haired male shuddered under his thin v-neck sweater, hopping from one foot to another, waiting for his companion to answer his query. The brunet male adjusted his red-framed glasses, pushing them back up on
the bridge of his nose using his first three fingers, and sighed.

“I know a couple.” Cheren exhaled the Kanako Town air, breath steaming in the night sky. He crouched down and set himself down, head looking up, blue eyes never leaving the celestial slideshow above. N took a seat next to him, sprawled out on the grassy ground, mimicking Cheren’s position. Cheren attempted to ignore the older male's presence, but began to name off constellations he spotted in his peripheral vision.

Cheren masked a chuckle with a fake cough, but soon enough, he was laughing, and N joined in, too.

“Wow, your life was really messed up.” Cheren managed to choke out in between laughing intervals. N rolled his eyes and rolled over on his side, fingers twirling strands of Cheren’s black hair. The glasses-wearing brunet tensed under the contact, but made himself breathe, in and out, in and out.

“It was, but it’s better now.” N whispered quietly, as he dropped his hands back to the floor and put his own head on Cheren’s shoulder.

Katniss Everdeen wasn't the one to give-up easily - throw in the towel, so to speak. Of course, that was because she had a mother and a sister back home, who were hungry and tired and in need of her protection.

(They also had a cat, but Katniss hated it and would much rather skin it alive for a nice pelt or something of the sort.)

So when she was suddenly attacked by a dark-haired stranger, she didn't scream or run like Madge would've done. She balled her hand into a fist and watched her knuckles connect with the boy's face, and waited for the earsplitting crack that was surely soon to follow.

Sadly, that did not happen. Katniss narrowed her gray eyes as she watched her opponent grin, preparing himself for the next attack. He was in an odd stance, to say the least, fists out, legs bent - he wasn't from District Twelve, Katniss knew that for sure. Maybe he was from District Four, the fishing district. His eyes were...green. Such a pretty oceanic green, those eyes were.

She shook her head before neatly dodging a punch to the shoulder, sidestepping as fast as she could in her leather hunting boots.

He was fast, she could admit that. His movements were fluid, like water - not that Katniss knew much about water. Water. She could never have enough of it.

But this boy seemed to be made out of the substance, the way he kicked and punched - the way he defended himself.

Both parties were tired, and Katniss found herself throwing the towel for once in her life. She raised her hand up in a plea to stop, and the boy complied, his sea-green eyes shining with excitement.

"That was so awesome, no doubt about it." He flashed a toothy grin and Katniss resisted the urge to face palm, or let her jaw hang wide open. This boy was a freak.

"We just sparred for the last twenty minutes, and not even that, you were the one who attacked first!" Katniss said, exasperatedly. She ran a hand through her thick, black, hair, thanking whatever deity that ruled above them, that she remembered to put her hair in a braid earlier - that had given her an advantage in the skirmish.

"Well, I'm glad you came along. I was getting awfully bored. The name's Percy." He stuck his hand out, and Katniss's eyes widened and she felt the urge to scream. This boy was impossible! How could he act completely normal after he almost...well, he didn't almost kill her, but still!

She carefully took his hand, but as soon as they shook, she yanked her hand away. "Katniss Everdeen." Her voice was cool, calm, and collected, nothing like her hyperactive mind, attempting to sort out the mess she had gotten herself into.

Percy grinned, and Katniss wondered if he ever stopped grinning. His face seemed to be glued to that certain expression. She wanted to wipe it off. Maybe she could get Gale to beat him up, or something. She eyed what he was wearing, nice jeans and a tawny long-sleeved sweater. He most definitely wasn't from the Seam.

Where the hell was he from, then?

"A pleasure to meet you, Katniss. Well, I gotta go. Catch you later!" Percy bounded off, disappearing into the bramble of trees that was the forest, and Katniss felt herself move forward, as if preparing to follow him.

She stopped herself before she could do anything reckless. She remembered that she still had things to do, and animals to hunt. Her mother was still a sorry mess ever since her father was killed and Prim was coming down with a cold. She shrugged off her quiver and prepared her bow for another killing spree.

But no matter how many quails she hit or how many rabbits she trapped, her mind couldn't wrap itself around the boy with eyes like the sea. He was constantly reappearing, and she hated herself for that.

After all, she was Katniss Everdeen. She didn't need anyone.

Last edited by alyssonrose; 3rd February 2011 at 3:14 AM.

Amazing signature by Skiyomi~ <3 Alyss - Noun; A ChessShipper, a DualRivalShipper, and a LostRoyalShipper.
Alexandrianshipping is her favorite pairing in the world, besides Twinleafshipping.
Her most popular story is Alexandria, and she loves the story very much~~You just lost the Game. ;D

“Well, here it is Inspector Clouseau,” a hoarse, sardonic voice said as the door to the patient’s room was opened. Dr. House, as ever looking like he’d just spent the night on a couch in someone’s driveway, limped his way forcefully into the room with a meek man with curly brown hair and an air of impeccable neatness followed him. “Mr. Foley,” Dr. House said, turning his rarely welcome attention on the patient in the bed, “Mr. Monk here wants to ask you a few questions about the man that attacked you. Maybe you could draw him a picture. That is,” a not-so-nice little laugh, “if you weren’t right handed.”

The man in the bed gave his doctor a disgusted look in the silence that followed.

House’s eyes flicked to his side where Adrian Monk was noticeably not asking any questions. “Mr. Monk? Were you waiting for his other arm to fall off?”

Adrian Monk might’ve been. He seemed to be holding one hand in front of his face on the right side to block out the lack of limb.

“Don’t tell me that they don’t train detective to deal with pesky little things like dismemberment anymore?” House asked, popping a pill in front of an ex-cop because he was a rock star doc and he could do that.

She has no idea how long she's been here. Hours? Days? Weeks? Years? It seems like it's been an eternity. An eternity since...no. It was too painful to think of their final moments together. She had comforted him, saying it was for the best. Saying that her death would be for the best for everyone. Everyone but herself, she had thought. She pretended to accept it, to make it easier for them. She would have gone out kicking and screaming, if it weren't for them.
Them. She missed them greatly. She missed the afternoons they'd spent together, laughing, eating ice cream. She could still faintly taste the sea salt ice cream on her tongue.
Thinking about them only made her sadder, though. Although she could clearly remember them, and all of their moments together, she knew they had forgotten all about her. It was a side effect of her disappearance. The world would move on, without a trace of her existence.

And she would remain here, with nothing but memories to keep her company.

All Filia could do, in that dim room with long shadows, was stare in stupefaction as the shadow of a deformed rabbit crossed the screen of light. Her toddler’s joyful claps echoed in her numb ears. First the bunny rabbit, then the duck, then an elephant, then a swan, then a butterfly… then a golden dragon.

She whipped her head away from the shadows and back to Xellos, who was crouched by the lantern and playing the part of the mad projectionist in this play. Sure enough his tightly gloved hands were making normal, if highly expressive forms… forms that could only be shadowed onto the far wall in the form of a dragon by some dark trick, schismatic from reality. But then again, this was Xellos they were talking about.

If you had told her five years ago when they’d first met, four and a half years ago when he ground Valgaav’s broken arm with his staff, four years ago when she’d taken charge of raising Valgaav’s purified, reborn form, that Xellos would one day stop by her house to make entertaining shadow puppets to amuse and delight the child, Val, making fond sort of cooing noises all the while… well… It was as though she felt the need to reorder to universe to make it all right again. But yet… it was Xellos. It was very Xellos.

“You know, of course, that golden dragons love to fly,” Xellos was saying to Val. “Whoosh!” He guided his impossible shadow puppet through the light field, flapping its wings. Filia couldn’t help but notice that the shadow creature’s tail had a miniscule bow on it. “Look at her big hag through the zue zeavens.” He coughed. “I mean zig-zag through the blue heavens.”

Filia frowned. That spoonerism was intentional. She stood up and ordered: “Alright Xellos, I think that’s enough for tonight. Val, it’s time to go to bed.”

“Awww, but I wanna see more, Mommy!” Val pleaded.

“Yes, Filia,” Xellos said. “Have a little heart.” A shadow of a heart made out of his entirely too expressive hands cast a shadow on the lighted wall.

“Why should I?” Filia snapped. “You certainly don’t.”

Xellos said nothing, but parted his fingertips from one another, breaking the heart in half.

Sorry, but I just don’t have time to be dragged into yet another one of Lina’s ridiculous adventures, and you can tell her that too so she doesn’t make you be the go-between again. I have more important things to do than be her useful item #2.

Regards,
Zelgadis

Amelia slumped her shoulders, casting a flickering shadow over the letter as the dim flame from the candle behind her blew in the wind. Of course. Of course Mister Zelgadis wouldn’t be able to find the time to join with her and Miss Lina and Mister Gourry. He was so busy lately with his alchemy research that she hardly ever got to see him and all she ever received were brief letters in response to her long ones. She just wanted it to be like before, but…

She blinked her moistening eyes and stood up furiously shaking her head. A wolf howled somewhere in the distance as the moon rose beyond the view from her window. She stormed out of the room.

*****

“Blegh!” was Lina’s first response after her eyes snapped open to see what was going on.

“Are you awake, Miss Lina?” Amelia asked, removing her hands from the other girl’s shoulders which she had been vigorously shaking.

Lina sat up in bed and slammed a hand over one of her groggy, half-closed eyes. “Yeah, I’m awake, but why am I awake? What time is it anyway?”

“It’s about two in the morning,” Amelia said, far too energetically for that time of night.

“Don’t just say it all happy like that!” Lina snapped. “Why’d you wake me up?! I was dreaming about deep-fried pudding!”

Amelia decided not to question her traveling companion’s more… eccentric culinary tastes. Instead she said, with the best smile she could manage: “Oh, I was just thinking we could go out and shake down some bandits like we used to. You know you love punishing bandits.”

Lina hesitated. Despite rumors to the contrary, Lina always held that frying bandits was the best way that a maiden could spend her evenings… at least… the best one she’d tried yet. But right now, she’d rather sleep. “I’m just not feeling it tonight,” she said with a shrug. “We can go some other time. Just go to sleep.”

“No!” Amelia half-squealed. “We have to go out tonight! It’s really important. I don’t want to go to sleep I just want to hunt bandits from now until we leave!”

Lina gave her a befuddled look. “Geez, what’s with you today?” she asked, suppressing a yawn. “You were the one that said we could stop because Gourry and Zel got sick of having to bail us out of jail in the morning.”

Amelia took a step back, as if slapped. She made a fist. “Mister Zelgadis has nothing to do with this!”

Lina raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say he did,” she said. There was an uncomfortable pause. “Did he… ever return that letter you were gonna send him?”

Amelia looked at the floor. “That’s beside the point,” she said. She looked up pleadingly. “Come on, Miss Lina! Let’s just go out and beat up some bandits. The cause of JUSTICE must be served!”

Lina tilted her head. For once this wasn’t about justice, and that was pretty rare for Amelia. With that girl, everything was about justice. But not tonight… no… he had written back… and it hadn’t been good.

She gave a defeated little sigh and grabbed her cloak. “Fine,” she said. “If it makes you feel any better.”

"C'mon, Ashy-boy! Be a man and have a drink!" Gary said, attempting to persuade his childhood friend into drinking a glass of hard liquor with him. Ash was being a stubborn prude when it came to alcohol, and it was getting on the sandy-haired man's nerves whenever Ash refused to have a drink. This time, however, he was pleased to see his constant nagging has finally paid off.

"Well... Okay then," Ash said uncertainly, remembering the words of his beloved fiancée as they echoed in his head.

"If you come home drunk ever again, Ash Ketchum, you'll be in a whole world of hurt!"

He shivered when he remembered the one time he came home drunk after having too many beers with his buddies. Let's just say his wife-to-be doesn't appreciate being called "DeeDee" multiple times in a lullaby tune when he's acting like an idiot.

Not the best experience he's ever had.

He grabbed the glass containing the liquid and stared at it. After two seconds he shrugged and gulped it all down, thinking, "What's the worst that could happen?"

And just like that, he was intoxicated.

Gary, realizing that the liquor was too hard for his ex-rival to handle, sighed as he slung Ash's body over his left shoulder. The twenty-five year old Pokemon Master started to sing tunes of very old cartoons, his voice fluctuating with annoyingly high pitches. Gary cringed.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea.

---

Dawn averted her eyes from the television as she heard consecutive knocks on her door. She got up and walked towards the frame, hearing a ridiculous-sounding voice singing horribly on the other side. She sighed and smoothed her skirt before turning the doorknob and opening the door, revealing a tired-looking Gary Oak and a fidgeting body--Ash, she knew--slung over his shoulder.

"Sorry," was all he said before he pulled Ash's body off himself and stood him upright--or at least tried to--in front of Dawn. He turned around and left her with her blubbering idiot of a husband-to-be.

"Ugh, Ash, I thought I told you never to come home drunk again," she grumbled frustratingly as she carefully guided him towards the couch, one of his arms hanging around her neck.

"Uuh... Hey- hey...Dawn...?" Ash slurred as he lazily looked at her. His half-opened eyes gazed at her with love as he grinned at her sloppily. Her heart skipped a beat and she blushed a bit when they made eye contact.

"Wh-What, Ash?" she asked.

"…You're the greatest." He put his other arm around her waist and pulled her in a crooked hug, his grin even bigger than before. She turned red and placed her hands on his chest, looking down shyly as he nuzzled the top of her head.

"...You mean that?" was her meek reply. She was surprised that he could act really loving when he was drunk, as he rarely showed his romantic side normally. It was a nice change from the dense boy she knew and loved.

"...Mm...yeah..." He pulled his head away and quickly placed his lips against hers; a small peck. "I love you.." he whispered before kissing her again. He pulled back and beamed at her.

Title: M
Author: Darth Osiris/Nightlingbolt
Fandom: Fairy Tail
Pairing: NatsuErza
Rating: M for the subject matter.
Notes: I haven't felt like I was in this much of a groove since I don't know when! I guess these short bursts of romantic/sexual humor are what I do best, hm? Granted, I would like to be known for at least one long fic.

Spoiler:- M:

Damn that Gazille…

Erza had hugged Natsu goodbye before leaving for a solo mission. This did not go unnoticed by Gazille, who apparently couldn’t mind his own beeswax.

Of course, Natsu won that fight. Still, those wounds were painful, something he did not like.

Gazille, that jerk.

When Erza got back, the first thing Natsu did was charge at her with a flaming fist, which resulted in a kick in the stomach sending him flying across the room, landing at Gazille’s feet. And it felt… good.

Natsu laughed. “I guess you’re sort of right, Gazille,” he said. “If it’s Erza dealing the pain, then I am a bit of a masochist.”

Title: In Which Xellos Makes Filia a Coupon Book for her Birthday
Author: Skiyomi
Fandom: Slayers
Pairing: Xellos/Filia
Rating: PG-13.
Notes: For a collection of vignettes I've been doing (not all of which are shippy, that's why this is on its own)

Spoiler:- Xellos/Filia:

In Which Xellos Makes Filia a Coupon Book for her Birthday.

Filia skimmed over the loosely bound paper scraps Xellos had expectantly presented her. Of course, what with the busy life Filia led, she'd already made it clear that coupon books made perfect gifts. Val had crayoned in a set with promises to "not frow food at the wall for a hole week" and "good for won smile!!" While Jillas had provided vouchers to "Give Lord Val a spelling lesson" and "Do afternoon gunpowder experiments in Coopers Field instead of the basement." And Gravos had given wholly practical things like "babysit Lord Val", "cook dinner" and "Yell at Jillas for you the next time he blows something up." She was saving that last one for a day when her voice was particularly hoarse.

But Xellos... after all these years of horrible, usually dangerous gifts, had finally jumped on the bandwagon and made her a coupon book. Leafing through the noticeably thick stack of vouchers she honestly wasn't sure whether to yell at him or burst out laughing. She was slightly horrified at herself for leaning toward the latter.

Instead she strove for a calm, in-control voice and asked him: "Xellos... is there a single one of these that isn't for some kind of sex act?"

“Can’t you just mind your own business for once?” May asked, glaring at her brother. She sighed in defeat and sank down onto the porch swing, the same swing that she and Drew had been sharing in what they thought was privacy only a moment earlier. The same swing where she and Drew had seemed so content to partake in a tongue wrestling match without much care over who would win.

At that memory, Max’s brain shut down in its own defense.

“What are we gonna do, Drew?” May asked, turning away from her emotionally damaged brother. “If he tells Mom and Dad then they won’t let you stay over for the summer.”

Drew watched them fly across the yard, sighed, and sank onto the porch swing. I’d better start thinking of a contingency plan, he decided. As impossible as that sounds…
He leaned back and let a small smile slink onto his face. Nevertheless, it had all been worth it.

Title: N/A
Author: Flame Mistress (who else?)
Fandom: Pokemon
Pairing: Wishfulshipping
Rating: G
Notes: Yeah, I rushed this just for fun. I have no idea why I am posting this. It is very short.

Spoiler:- Wishfulshipping Drabble:

"I'm hungry," Ash said for the umpteenth time that afternoon.*
"You're such a kid," Iris smirked. "All you care about is Pokemon and food."
"Hey, what did you say? I actually DO care for someone, you know..." Ash shouted back.
"Oh, who? I know, that girl on the handkerchief!" Iris laughed. "Your girlfriend!"
"She is NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!" Ash yelled, blushing.

Cilan chuckled to himself as the two argued. He had gotten used to all this bickering; they argued almost every day, it was a wonder that they managed not to kill each other. However, Cilan felt uneasy for some reason; there were always rumours that couples argued to hide their true feelings for each other. Cilan had had a crush on Iris since the day he met her, and his feelings for the girl grew every day. He hoped it wasn't too late - if Iris really DID have feelings for Ash... Cilan hated to think of it. No way was he going to give up on Iris. After all, Ash had the handkerchief girl, didn't he?
"Cilan, are you ready yet?" Ash asked, whining. He looked so comical slumped against his chair half-groaning, he couldn't help but laugh at the trainer. "Nearly," he replied with a smile.

May had never thought that there could be something out there that was better than standing alone, victorious at the end of a contest. But now… standing on the contest stage with Ash across from her and a crowd of cheering fans she knew. Shared victory… now that was something else entirely.

They smiled and reached across to one another as he took her hand in his. It was… a perfect moment. Well, almost perfect. For some reason she felt it would’ve been better if they weren’t wearing gloves, but still…

It just… made it all flash before her. There were so many great times that they shared. And this person… this boy standing in front of her smiling warmly… she wouldn’t have had any of this if it wasn’t for his encouragement, his example, and his friendship.

…And yet… she’d have to learn to live without it.

It hadn’t hit her until just then how much she’d be sacrificing to separate from him. It was one thing to say ‘I’m going to go off alone and not rely on anybody!’ but… it’s something else when you have to actually do it. Could she make it without him by her side? Did she even want to?

She tried to snap herself out of it. She was thinking like the old May. The new May could be strong, self-sufficient, and grown-up. The new May wouldn’t follow someone around for the rest of her life out of fear of getting lonely. And anyway, it wasn’t like the new May would never see Ash again. Yes! That’s right! She’d get stronger and then she’d see him again, and he’d be so proud of how far she’d come. And it would be even better than ever! She just had to make that step out on her own and…

“Hey, May?” Ash said in a slightly concerned voice that brought her back to reality.

May shook her head and tried to focus on the present without dipping into the past or the future. “What?”

Ash gave her a gentle smile and dipped his eyes down to their still clasped hands. “You can let go now,” he said.

May stared at their hands and wondered how long she’d been in wonderland just standing there holding his hands. She drew her hand back. “Sorry!” she said, blushing slightly.

It was January and the members of the Ul Copt household were industriously trying not to freeze to death. It had already been a nasty winter, where a blizzard seemed like the normal course of affairs, rags were tucked into every crack, and they wore sweaters in so many layers that they could hardly move their arms.

Then the furnace broke down.

Filia was prepared. There was a stack of firewood outside that practically reached the roof and her basement was lined with jars of preserved food. But none of them were happy and they all had to make sacrifices.

…Except of course for Xellos.

While the rest of them pressed as close to the fire as they could, Xellos would hang back, take his cloak off mockingly and ask Filia to open the window so it wouldn’t be so oppressively hot. Which always brought about the typical response of Filia wading through her sea of blankets and sweaters over to throttle him.

Gravos probably had it worst off. His body shed heat so easily that he’d spent most of the winter in a lethargic state. He, Jillas, and Val were pretty much consigned to share a bed every night. It wasn’t a great situation for any of them. Jillas shed, Gravos snored, and despite how often Filia called Val her ‘big, grown-up boy,’ he still occasionally wet the bed. Still, it was better than freezing. Marginally.

As for Filia herself, Xellos thought she acted awfully cold-blooded for someone who kept insisting she wasn’t a lizard. She’d patched all their old clothes together into a bunch of ugly blankets and cocooned herself in them every night but still shivered away for the longest time. At least until…

She’d discovered it by accident. Of course she knew that he didn’t have to deal with pesky bodily issues like cold and hunger and fatigue, but it wasn’t until the morning her tea had gone cold that she thought anything more about it.

He sipped his tea across from her, practically lapping up her grimace as she swallowed her already cooled tea.

“How can you drink that?” she’d asked irritably, wondering if there were any more drafts around the windows that she could plug up so her friggin’ tea could stay hot for more than two minutes.

“Easily,” he’d answered. “It’s nice and warm and lemon flavored.”

She’d poured his cup before hers. There was no way it could still be… but yet it was. Steam was rising from the cup. “How…?” she started.

He’d given her a small but as-always smug smile, said: “Just this once,” and reached out a hand to her mug. When he drew it back the tea was steaming.

That was it though… Gravos was cold-blooded and couldn’t hold heat for very long, Jillas was warm-blooded and could do so for longer, but Xellos… body temperature was just a choice for him. He wasn’t warming his hands on his tea, he was warming his tea with his hands.

Filia took her cup gingerly and drank, scalding her tongue slightly on the liquid. Xellos waited for thanks that he was not going to receive while she thought and thought and thought.

And that’s how it had happened. Xellos knew she must’ve been truly desperate to take the measures that she did, but there they were. She’d made the request—or demanded, more like it—and it had become a nightly thing.

“I’m going to bed,” she said severely to him with a glare that ought to have brought spring early it was so fiery.

He took that cue, closed his book and followed her.

Filia had arranged it as austerely as she could. They lay on separate levels of the mass of blankets, always with a sheet over Xellos and above her. And she’d told him in no uncertain terms that if he attempted anything even remotely ungentlemanly that she’d kick him so hard that he’d feel it on the astral side. She’d said it with such terrible certainty that he was forced to take her seriously and contented himself with simply making jokes about the situation. His ‘condom blanket’ comment about the sheet between them had earned him a sharp elbow in the gut, but that was the worst of it.

Xellos might have protested at this treatment. After all, he was a very important monster with powers more than a thousand-fold any dragon. He had to wonder how he’d gotten roped into becoming a disgruntled ex-dragon-priestess’s hot water bottle.

He also wondered as she nestled close to him, her heat-seeking form snugly fitted against his through the blanket while letting a slight murmur that the part that they needed to fix the furnace would be arriving at the hardware store tomorrow, how he could get roped into it again.

Oh merciful heavens, why? Why do you do this to me? Is this meant to be penitence for some past crime? It would certainly have to be worse than rushing through my prayers to get to dinner or sleeping in and missing temple a few times or even being a frequent customer of Mademoiselle Francine’s Lingerie Shoppe (It’s not what it sounds like! Where else am I supposed to get holsters for my mace? …In various colors. …With frills.) to warrant such a fierce punishment. Even if I had killed a thousand puppies I wouldn’t deserve something this cruel!

“I thought you were going to do inventory, not grit your teeth until they crack,” Xellos commented from his uninvited perch on top of the gift wrapping counter.

Filia’s gaze fell on him for just a second and she immediately regretted it. She turned away to the relief of her shelf and the nice, safe, morally unquestionable vases that lined it. “I can do both,” she managed to choke out through the enamel-on-enamel traffic jam in her mouth.

It wasn’t just that he was there, bothering her once again when she was trying to do an inventory check in the hours after closing. Goodness knew she was used to that hardship. But this… this was just uncalled for.

She snuck a glance at him over her shoulder. She didn’t know why he was wearing them or where they came from—generally he seemed to like to stay with the same outfit day in and day out. She’d gotten so used to it that she was fairly certain that to her death she’d be able to name every article (…the visible ones at least) and it had gotten to the point where even the slightest change was jarring, but calling this merely ‘jarring’ was the understatement of the century.

Why? she asked herself again, miserably. Why couldn’t he have just stuck with his normal, everyday, baggy pants? There’s nothing wrong with them! Yet all of the sudden, without ceremony or comment he has to go and show up in… those. Those… black, light-catching, leather pants that are… not baggy. Extremely not baggy. But in fact, rather clingy and skintight and stretched as though struggling just to contain…

Filia caught her breath. It wasn’t right, that’s what it was. What made him think he could just parade around her shop in such obscenely snug trousers? It was just… distracting. And annoying! And she didn’t like it one bit for your information so you can just stop that smug little imagination of yours right there!

That’s right! Filia thought, sucking in another greedy breath. This is my place of business and I make the rules, so if I say he’s got to wear something else then that’s the law of the land. Well, I’m not just going to let him walk all over me, she resolved, turning around to face him with her jaw stuck out determinedly. I’m just going to straight out and tell him that he has to take off his pa—

No, no, No! Filia thought wildly, almost entirely losing her balance. That was nearly bad. VERY bad. He’d never let me live that one down.

Xellos appeared to notice her manic mumbling to herself punctuated by a few deep, forceful breaths as she tried to get her mind back on track after that near brush with disaster. “Filia?” he tried quizzically.

“Oh, what?” Filia snapped.

Xellos pointed to his face in the condescending matter that he reserved for children, idiots, and Filia. “I’m up here.”

-This, ladies and gentlemen, has been a vignette about Xellos’s package. You’re welcome!

“Oh great, it’s Botch,” James complained as he walked into the Team Rocket lounge. All he’d wanted was fifteen annoyance-free minutes. Jesse and Meowth were his friends and all, but traveling with them was a headache with no cure. All he’d wanted was quiet, but instead he’d have to listen to Botch’s unpleasant voice.

“I told you, the name’s Butch!” Butch croaked angrily, pointing with his cigarette.
“It doesn’t really matter,” James said lightly before taking a seat in a blood red barcalounger next to the raspy rocket.

“It matters to me,” Butch said, gesturing to himself with his cigarette so that he nearly set the R on his shirt on fire. Noting James indifference, he groaned put his boots up on the footrest before taking a long drag and asking: “So what are you doing here anyway? Shouldn’t you be racing after that red-headed witch?”

“Jesse and Cassidy ran into each other in the exercise room,” James said with a sniff. “They got into a fight over earrings and challenged each other to a treadmill race.”

Butch raised a green eye-brow. “Treadmill race?”

“The first to fall loses,” James explained.

Butch tapped his cigarette against an ashtray shaped like a Raticate. “Cassidy will win, no problem. That swoosh-haired bimbo doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Not even the most petite possibility!” James alliterated. “Jesse will triumph terrifically.”

“Au contraire,” James countered, holding up an index finger as though to make a point, “Your team has an outdated, ripped off motto, ridiculously over-the-top posing, and dreadful taste in uniforms.”

“Yeah?” Butch asked, slightly muffled by the cigarette in his mouth. “Well your team is a failure, you can’t plan your way out of a paper bag, and aren’t postmodern enough to understand what a favor we did to your motto.”

James blanched. “We are so postmodern!” he shouted back. He didn’t know what it was, but for some reason he wanted to be it.

“Yeah right,” Butch said, shaking his head.

And angry silence past between them, which cooled moment by moment until finally Butch asked, somewhat quietly: “Do you really think our uniforms are that bad?”

James hesitated for a moment. For a fashion-loving rocket, he knew that insulting clothing was hitting below the… well, the belt. “They’re not that bad,” he admitted generously. “After all, black is slimming.”

James puffed out his chest. “Because I don’t need to wear black to look trim.”

Butch mumbled to himself in a cloud of smoke and could-be-swear-words before coming out with: “That’s probably just because you two are always broke. It’s easy to go on a diet when you have nothing to eat.”

James hung his head. That was technically true. He’d been thinking about writing a diet book singing the praises of poverty.

Butch noticed James’s falling expression and felt some remorse for his comment. He took his cigarette out of his mouth for a moment, exhaled and looked thoughtful. “Hey,” he said. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if it was us instead?”

“What do you mean?” James asked, wide-eyed.

“Like… we leave the divas behind or something,” he shrugged. “So’s then it’s just me and you as a team. We could do good, don’t you think? What do you suppose would happen?” he asked, somewhat uncertainly.

“Oh, that’s easy,” James said, utterly sure of himself. “Jesse would strangle us with our intestines.”

“But…” James said, noting Butch’s tone, “I guess it could be pretty good for the short time that we’re alive.”

“Really?”

“Really,” James said.

There was a moment between them that was just so… nice. It was so friendly and so strangely familiar that it was a shame that the talking cat had to come along and ruin everything.

“Jimmy, we got problems!” Meowth shouted. “Jesse and that Cassidy broad broke da tread—” He paused as he walked into the lounge and took in the two. He pointed at James wildly with a clawed paw. “What are you doing consortin’ wit da enemy?!” he demaned.

“I’m not consorting!” James explained, holding up his hands. “This is just a simple casual camaraderie between competitors!”

“Yeah?” Meowth said suspiciously. “Well quit wit da camaraderie! Jesse and da other one’s got dere hair stuck in da mechanism and I can’t get ‘em out on my own.”

“Oh dear,” James said, putting a tired hand on his forehead. He stood up. “I’d better get to that then.”

Butch waved idly with his cigarette. “See you later, James,” he said, not unkindly.

“You’re not coming?” James asked.

“Nah,” Butch said. “Smoke break’s not over.”

“Alright,” James said, turning away. “Good bye then, Butch.”

“I told you!” Butch said, squeezing his cigarette between his gloved fingers. “The name’s—” He cut himself off. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “Oh.” He smiled.

Lucas stood in the Champion Room, thinking. Mira, the girl he met in Wayward Cave, randomly crossed his mind. She was just another trainer he teamed up with for a short period of time, no different than Cheryl, or Riley, or Marley, or Buck. And yet there was something... different about her. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he couldn't shake the thought, either.

No, no. he thought. She's younger than me. Plus, so cheeky. No, we could never work. Besides, Dawn is perfect for me. Everyone knows we're meant to be.

And yet, he still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something different.

"Lucas, turns out you've got a challenger." It was Lucian, the final Elite Four member, and Psychic-type master. "I was quite impressed with her Alakazam. Young girl, huge pink pigtails. She says she wants to talk to you about something after the battle."Could it be?, Lucas thought.

Love reviews!

I don't use "uber" Pokemon (because they're banned), I don't calculate stat values (the simulator does it for me), I don't use cheating devices (because I hardly ever play the actual game), I don't breed my way to perfection (because I use a simulator), and I do care about natures. I battle the most efficient way, so I can use my strategic skills to the fullest. I don't look down on others because of the way they play Pokemon, which non-competitive people seem to actually do more often. If you use this philosophy, copy & paste this into your signature. (Started by DittoDude.)

May had never intended on traveling with Drew and Harley. Oh, certainly she’d hoped to see them in Johto while she was on the contest circuit. It’s always nice to see a familiar face when you’re far from home and besides that she knew that pitting herself against two such strong coordinators was sure to help her keep her edge and improve. And anyway, what are frenemies for?

It was only that… well, running into them was one thing, but being in their constant company was another. She was sure that Drew felt it too. They’d never really agreed to join up together. They’d just been pulled in by Hurricane Harley who informed them that he was “so glad” that they agreed to his suggestion without actually waiting for confirmation.

Spending even five minutes with Harley is exhausting; more than that… well… it was rough. Spending time with Drew was exhausting too for that matter, but she always felt like she got something out of her conversations with him. With Harley she just got the feeling that the floor had been pulled out from under her.

Needless to say, she was glad to have a little rest and relaxation to look forward to when they stopped at the next town a contest was being held in. There was a quite famous lounge there for coordinators only and she was looking forward to being off her feet for awhile and having a little refreshment.

Harley as always took the lead as they walked up to the counter where drinks and snacks were sold. “I’ll have a tall, skinny caramel macchiato, hon,” he said, one hand perched on his hip. “Not that I need it obviously,” he commented, gesturing a hand toward himself, “but you know what they say: skinny is as skinny does. You’d better figure that out soon, Mayday.”

May scowled at him but didn’t reply. She was getting the feeling that Harley liked to make her lose her temper in public.

“Yeah… I’ll just have a small black coffee,” Drew cut in pulling off his best ‘I am in no way with this strange person’ mannerisms.

The barista tapped the orders into the cash register before turning a dewy smile on May. “And what can I get for you, dear?” she asked.

“I’ll just have a bottle of water,” May said.

“W-w-w-what?!” Harley overreacted. “You mean to tell me that that’s what you’re getting here? Huh,” he said, looking unpleasantly triumphant. “I guess it’s no surprise that little Maybelline is too young for coffee. It’d probably keep her up way past her bedtime!”

May stewed in silent humiliation. It was just that… coffee was so bitter. Even when it was sweetened she didn’t like it. Her parents always told her that she’d like it when she was older but… she supposed she wasn’t old enough yet. Coffee in so many ways symbolized… maturity, which she never seemed able to reach. Drew drank coffee and now she looked like a kid in front of him yet again. She should’ve just gotten a coffee and dealt with it.

“Coffee tastes good and all, but water’s always the healthier choice,” Drew said, flipping his bangs out of his face carelessly. “A coordinator needs to constantly be aware of what the most healthy choices are, both for them and for their Pokemon. They owe it to their Pokemon to stay hydrated and energized—not dehydrated and buzzed.” Drew sneered slightly. “Skinny option or no.”

Harley crossed his arms with his mouth agape. He looked like he was about to launch into his ‘sistah you did not just go there!’ routine, but couldn’t quite manage it yet.

“So I think I’ll change my coffee to a water as well, if you don’t mind,” Drew said to the barista.

“Absolutely,” the barista said cheerily, passing him and May two ice-cold bottles of water.

May took hers, feeling strangely dazed and flushed despite the coolness against her gloved hand. It was perhaps because she was feeling so off-balance that she gestured with her bottle to Drew and said: “A toast?”

Drew apparently didn’t think that that line was as silly and mockable as it sounded to May, who was currently cursing herself for opening her mouth. He said, “Sure,” and tapped his bottle against hers. “To life uncaffeinated,” he said with a little smile.